Later
by ScarletMoonConception
Summary: He remembered


Hi all!

all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy this venture into the Legend of Korra universe. This is written as a gift to my sister, otherwise known as Twilight's_Enchantress. She's amazing, though I guess I could be biased. Maybe. Who cares

 **LoK**

The heart-pounding, soul-breaking throb never eased. It never got easier seeing her ex with Korra, and the ease in which they acted around each other. She liked Korra, a lot, but knowing that she wasn't enough...enough to keep Mako, enough for her Dad to stay

 _enough enough enough_

She didn't understand why she was never enough, for anyone. There was never enough of her for anyone to desire, to want to bind themselves to her. And she didn't feel like there was enough of her left to even try.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she turned her head. General Iroh stood behind her, hands clasped behind his back and a sympathetic look on his face. Automatically she bristled, because in no way did this Fire Nation general that was too hot for his own good understood anything of what she was going through.

Iroh raised his hands in surrender to the glare now directed towards him. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just have a few questions for you. Can I have a moment of your time?"

Asami's hackles lowered slightly. If it involved the mission, she would do anything to help. She nodded an affirmative, and stepped past the broad man, heading towards the table his map was now residing on. As she passed, their arms brushed briefly and she fought to suppress a quiver at the heat now flooding her arm's senses.

Iroh's heart pounded at the momentary brush of their arms. His blood pumped powerfully through his veins, leaving him feeling breathless and excited all at once. He knew the raven haired beauty didn't remember him, having not seen the recognition in her eyes, but his body still reacted like it did that night those years ago. He wondered if she would remember if he were to comb his fingers through her midnight tresses, or press his lips to the pulse point of her neck. Or if he were to spin her into his arms, or hold her gaze a few moments longer than necessary...

 _ **Past: 3 years ago, Annual Fire Nation Gala Commemorating Progress in the Four Nations**_

Iroh pulled at the collar to his button shirt and bow tie, trying in vain the relieve the pressure so he doesn't die of oxygen starvation. He could accept the collar to his uniform, a symbol of responsibility, honor and pride in ones nation. But this...this monstrosity? No matter what Mother said, he would never feel like himself dressed like this.

Grandfather used to tell stories of how much trouble he had when he first became Firelord. The clothing, the meetings, the weight of the responsibility weighing him down. If there was one person Iroh respected more than anyone, it was Grandfather Zuko. Which was why he was dressed in this stupid, stuffy suit.

His Grandfather held a Gala every year on the anniversary of FireLord Ozai's defeat, to commemorate the four nations coming together once again to have a prosperous life like in the days of old. But this gathering...was to be something special.

 _Because this_ _year Zuko was announcing the plans for Republic City, a place where anyone can come and be part of._

Iroh was beyond excited, not that his stony exterior would let it show. It was his Grandfather's and Avatar Aang's dream becoming reality. They would make history with this announcement and he was more than glad his Grandfather would see it come to fruition.

A slight figure bumped into his shoulder, causing him to break out of his reverie. When he turned to offer assistancehe froze, his brain losing all coherent thought at the sight he beheld.

The young woman standing before him was nothing short of a goddess. Her raven hair glowed in the chandelier light, the tresses falling in waves around her face and shoulders. Red painted her lips, the color of roses heightening the glow of her skin. A burgundy dress clung to her figure in all the right ways, gently falling to the floor in a graceful sort of way.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. Clumsy me, I mean... Please forgive me."

He held up a hand and lightly shook his head. "There's nothing to apologize for." Music started up, and people started pairing up for the dance. Iroh hadn't even realized that Zuko had made his announcement. He felt a twinge of guilt but pushed it to the side for now. He Held up a hand to the mysterious woman who widened her eyes. "But if you feel the need, then how about honoring me with the first dance."

He patiently waited for her response, curious as to why she kept glancing over his shoulder to something behind him. But before he could look, she placed her delicate hand in his own. "I feel the need to."

He smiled, and gently pulled her amidst the other dance goers. They swayed to and fro with the music, her hand in his and her hip warm against his palm.

The music continued for a few more moments. When the song ended, applause broke out, the noise deafening after the calm. She stepped away from him and gave a slight curtsy.

"Thank you for accepting my apology." She turned to walk away.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist before his brain had even processed the thought. She stopped, turning just slightly towards him.

"How about a walk? It's a nice night out."

She locked gazes with him, trying to discern his intention. After a moment in which he thought she was going to say no (and god he'd die if she did, he was trying so hard), she nodded in agreement.

 _ **LoK**_

Iroh couldn't tell you how'd they'd gotten here in this position if he tried. He knew he should feel embarrassed and ashamed and guilty and every other emotion you're supposed to feel in a moment like this, but he didn't. Couldn't bring himself to when he was in the perfect moment (how could he give it up when it was in his arms, under his hands). The moment described in fairytales and the ones only his mother knew he dreamed of.

He had Asami (beautiful name for a beautiful angel, how could this being get any more perfect god) pressed slightly against the outer courtyard wall. His hands grasped her shoulders a little tighter than he should, less than he wanted, to keep them from wandering too much. She moaned against his lips and he pressed harder against her.

He slid a hand up into her hair, grasping a handful of the thick curls tightly enough so he could pull her head back and deepen the kiss. Her hands grasped the shirt on his lower back in a fierce grip, her nails digging into his skin even with the clothing barrier.

He loosened his grip on her hair a little, pulling back slightly. He pressed a kiss to the pulse point of her neck (he couldn't resist, and he'd never tell anyone how the flutter underneath the skin begged him, seduced him, made him want more) before pulling away. He cleared his throat to get rid of the husk he just knew was going to be there. Unsuccessfully, but he'd tried.

"So...I...I probably should have asked your dad first before this."

Her eyes bored into his, her cheeks still pink.

"It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."

His eyes widened and then he released a chuckle before giving into the temptation to pull her back in against him.

"Then I guess I'll have to ask his forgiveness later."

 _ **LoK**_

They never got their later. When the other speakers started going up on stage to speak, they'd gone back inside. She went back to her dad's side and he to his mother's (and it broke his heart to let her hand go, but the promise in her eyes was enough, it had to be).

When it was over and he sought her out, her dad was dragging her away from the gala (away from him) and out the door. She turned and looked back at him, and even from as far away as he was he could see the apology and sadness in her eyes.

 _There'd never been anyone else for him_

 ** _LoK_**

Iroh pushed aside his reverie. He wondered if he should tell Asami (the tech princess, angel of his heart) about that night, that it was he who held her. About that moment when he was sure he'd felt true love. That moment that was so much like the fairytales with happy endings. That moment that no-one but his mother knew he believed in, wished for, wanted so badly...

But as he looked over at her, waiting at the makeshift table for her interview watching how the watched Mako watch Korra he decided against it (and it broke his heart again, shattered it).

Later, when time had passed and eased the pain she was feeling. Maybe then they'd finally get their "later".

 _ **~fin**_

So...what'd ya'll think? R&R!


End file.
